Three days at Hagley Park

New Zealand v England, Second Test, Hagley Oval, 30 March 2018

Scorecard

Here’s a tip. If you are in a taxi to the airport at 5 30 am, on no account tell your Chinese driver that you are going to the cricket. That way you will avoid passing the entire journey being interrogated on the differences between the game’s three formats. I fear that my powers of exposition were well below peak at that time of the day, a hapless witness, quickly broken down by a merciless prosecutor.

I was off to Christchurch for the first three days of the second test. As we flew over the central city, the effects of the devastation wrought by the 2011 earthquake remain clear to see. Substantial tracts of the CBD are levelled, with some buildings still to come down. We saw Lancaster Park, the home of Canterbury rugby and cricket for more than a century, now a desolate memorial, shortly to be demolished, including the massive Deans Stand, recently opened when the earthquake struck, with some seats that were never sat on by spectators.

Cricket was in the process of moving the domestic game to Hagley Park before the earthquake. After it, plans were expanded so that it could accommodate internationals as well. It reminds me of Mote Park, Maidstone, also a tree-lined ground with a grass bank around much of the boundary, set in one corner of a large park (and with rugby pitches adjacent).

My seat was in the temporary stand that was divided into sections named after notable Canterbury cricketers: Congdon, Dowling, Hastings, Pollard, Murdoch, Hockley. The latter two are former captains of the national women’s team, and both have been fine additions to the New Zealand Sky commentary team this season, particularly Hockley, who has a good line in punchy astuteness. The choice of Vic Pollard may have been a gaffe, given that the test embraced Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Pollard wouldn’t play on any Sunday for religious reasons.

England were put in by Williamson, in the hope of exploiting some early greenness. Cook got a cracker from Boult early on, swinging late to take his off stump. His footwork was a little laggardly—perhaps a season on Strictly Come Dancing is what he needs—but it was the quality of the bowling that exposed it. As the technology has become more forensic, analysis has tended to explain dismissals in terms of flawed batting. Alistair McGowan once did a sketch as Alan Hansen in which he explained some of football’s greatest goals purely in terms of defensive error. Sometimes the bowling is simply better.

James Vince gave us another of his butterfly innings, beautiful but brief. Joe Root’s innings was similar but a bit longer, and classier. His bat seemed to have nothing but middle until he lost concentration and was bowled by Southee. Malan got a testing delivery first ball before his feet were moving, then Stoneham became the third wicket to fall with only one run added. His was one of those curious innings where it might have been better for his reputation had he got out early, the auto-navigator determinedly directing him away from his comfort zone throughout.   

Ben Stokes batted as he had at the ODI in Wellington, and as he lives life in general these days, with caution suppressing his natural instincts, until just after lunch he gave it away with a legside flick caught behind, a popular way of getting out in this series.

Stuart Broad batted as if being No 8 was a responsibility that he wanted to divest himself of as soon as possible, which brought in Mark Wood, returning to the test team for Overton, to support Jonny Bairstow. New Zealand followed the irritating practice of trying to get Bairstow off strike and Wood on it. What’s more, this continued well beyond the point when it became clear that Wood was striking the ball well and there was a case for doing it the other way round. I still don’t understand why, when you only have two or three wickets to take, you would stop trying to get one batsman out.

Bairstow was superb. He has been England’s best batsman on the New Zealand tour. His innings started in retrenchment then moved to accumulation then attack. He moved up through the gears as smoothly as Lewis Hamilton and reached his century early on the second morning.

It didn’t help that New Zealand’s DRS challenges had both been frittered away by the 34^th over. For a young man whose reputation is built upon rationality and common sense, the way Kane Williamson’s eyes light up at the chance of a punt on the lamest of nags in this respect is odd.

As has been widely advertised, all the first innings wickets for both sides fell to the opening bowlers. This series has provided an opportunity to see the finest pair of opening bowlers that both these teams have had. Of course, Richard Hadlee was New Zealand’s best quicker bowler and he was well-supported, most notably by Ewen Chatfield, but Graham Gooch was not over-hyperbolic when he described New Zealand’s attack in the Hadlee era as World XI at one end and Ilford Seconds at the other.

Trueman and Statham will be a popular alternative for England. Both were probably better bowlers than Anderson and Broad as individuals, but didn’t bowl as a combination as often as people think. They took the new ball together in every test of only two series: South Africa at home in 1960 and Australia away in 1962/3. Of course, if Trueman had been picked as often as Trueman thought he should have been, it would have been many more. Conversely, had the selectorial conventions of the fifties and sixties still been in place, Anderson and Broad would not have played so much. Then, it was very unusual to pick more than two quick bowlers, plus an all-rounder. The definition of “quick” was looser too, embracing the likes of Derek Shackleton, an upright, shopping-basket-on-the-handlebars type of bowler (this definition of “quick” is still in use in Kent—see Stevens, D).

Broad and Anderson were far too good for the New Zealand top order on the second morning. It was 36 for five just after lunch. Williamson was the fifth, following the fashion by flicking down the legside. He has had another fine season, but has got out to shots he shouldn’t have more often than a player that good has the right to.

BJ Watling is the most underestimated player in world cricket, probably because he plays tests only, and New Zealand play so few of those. Here is a player who has twice participated in world-record-breaking test partnerships for the seventh wicket, and another of 200-plus. By definition, large partnerships this low down the order begin in adversity. He is to a broken innings what Mary Portas is to a failing shop.

Here he had an unlikely ally in Colin de Grandhomme. Regular readers will know that, much as I enjoy de Grandhomme’s cavalier batting in shorter forms, I haven’t seen him as a test all-rounder. Now he played a roundhead innings, the type of which I did not think him capable. What a pleasure to be proved wrong. He was offered plenty of temptation early on, mostly in the form of short stuff from Mark Wood. He took it on, hooking three fours in the second over he faced, but with judicious selection of balls that he could keep down. England would have done better to test him with full-length deliveries on off stump.

De Grandhomme’s 72 was his best test innings. Unlike his hundred at the Basin against he West Indies in December, it was made in adversity and took more than double the number of deliveries of that innings. He and Watling put on 142 for the sixth wicket, a record for New Zealand against England.

There was an impatience about Root’s captaincy that was to be even more evident later in the closing overs of the match. Graeme Swann was reported as complaining that Root meddled too much with Jack Leach’s fields, an impediment to the bowler settling (though Leach looked a genuine test spinner). The England captain is a one-man Flat Earth Society in terms of the inexhaustible number of questionable theories that he has.

Southee came in with a considerable England lead still in prospect. Ten years ago, almost to the day, Southee slogged his way to an unbeaten 77 as New Zealand went down in the final test of the series, in Napier. That remains his highest test score and it might have been the worst thing that could have happened to his batting as has tried to emulate it almost every time he has gone to the crease.

So it began here, as if Southee was in a private contest with Broad to see who could be the most reckless No 8 in cricket. He began the third day with a six off the third ball (which should have a double value for interrupting Jerusalem—see below) but these days he runs a basic risk assessment over the delivery before deciding whether of not to slog. The six, I learn from CricInfo, took him into the top twenty of the six-hitting list for tests for all countries, the Arthur Wellard of our age.

Southee went for 50, leaving Wagner and Boult to stage an anarchic last-wicket partnership (there is no other kind of any significant duration) of 39, including Wagner’s emulation of Botham’s no-look hooked six of Old Trafford ’81. From 36 for five, the deficit had been reduced to an insignficant 29.

Alistair Cook went early, caught behind off Boult. It has been denied since, but when he walked off, was it for the last time as a test batsman? Might he think, as he tends the young lambs, that he has nothing more to prove?

Stoneman was somewhat more convincing than he had been in the first innings, but only somewhat. He was dropped twice before giving it away on 60 with a slash to one of Southee’s worst deliveries.

I had written note after his first innings that if Vince were ever to make a test century, it would be a fine, pretty thing that I would like to see. When he, predictably, unleashed a silky off drive third ball, the general feeling was that it was the start of an exquisite 18, or a gorgeous 23. But there was less beauty and more application today, as Vince made his way to 76 before, yes, nicking to slip. Same ending, but more chapters.

I had left for the airport to return to Wellington shortly before Vince’s dismissal, so followed the rest of the game on TV and the internet, including the heart-health challenge of the last hour of the last day. The partnership between Wagner—pleased to have found a new way to irritate the opposition—and Sodhi kept England at bay. New Zealand taking the test series (though that isn’t a word that should really be used for two matches) while England had the ODIs was a fair reflection of the strength of the teams.

Hagley Park is a wonderful venue for tests. There should be a game there and at the Basin every year, with remaining games divided between Hamilton, Mt Maunganui (both of which have lights), and Dunedin. No more tests in the empty greyness of Eden Park, thanks.

I have recently read John Bew’s biography of Clement Attlee, Citizen Clem. He begins each chapter with a quotation from a work that influenced Attlee at the period the chapter describes. That on Attlee’s early years as an MP (he was elected in 1922) opens with a familiar poem that outlines a determination to build a new, better, society out of the suffering brought about by the Industrial Revolution. Attlee quoted it in his 1920 work The Social Worker, which was both an early textbook on that unjustly derided vocation and a statement of political belief.

Hard to think that it is the same verses as those subjected to daily torture by the Barmy Army after the first ball of each day. In fairness, Jerusalem had become a patriotic vehicle by Attlee’s time, but after the First World War, its expression of an intent to make the country a better place out of the suffering was still understood. Not an ounce of this remains in the accusatory manner in which it was delivered in Christchurch. Presumably, the reference to dark satanic Mills is thought to be to the former New Zealand seamer. If any of Blake’s original intent was understood, the same people who sing the song in the morning wouldn’t pick on security guards doing their job on or close to the minimum wage in the afternoon.

Back to the Future at the Cake Tin: New Zealand v England, ODI, the Cake Tin, 3 March 2018

Scorecard

“Shocking…terrible” – Paul Newman of the Daily Mail.

“Dreadful” – Scyld Berry of the Daily Telegraph.

Representative reactions from the British media about the pitch at the Cake Tin for the third ODI between New Zealand and England (both offered at an early stage of the contest). Yet this apparent travesty of a surface produced a wonderful game of cricket, tested different skills and thinking from the usual, and begat one of the finest one-day innings that it has been my pleasure to witness.

The pitch was different, certainly. Initial examination intimated that it had recently staged a performance of Riverdance, and the dust and dirt that sprang from it in the early overs suggested—one for the older reader here—that Wilson, Keppel and Betty would have been reasonable selections.

At some point during the 1967 blogging I wrote that it would be interesting to see players like Joe Root and Jonny Bairstow on the pitches of that era, and that I thought they would be successful by taking a more attacking approach. This very pair came together early in the England innings and it occurred to me that I was getting my wish: cricket getting into the De Lorean and going back in time. What happened was that, on the whole, class triumphed and the inadequate were exposed. It was brilliant.

New Zealand won the toss and put England in. Kane Williamson was back from injury, but Ross Taylor was out with a hip problem. Ish Sodhi came back for Lockie Ferguson. Mark Wood replaced David Willey for the visitors.

The first couple of overs did not reassure the batsmen. A couple from Southee went like leg breaks and Boult got one to rear like an unbroken stallion. It was surprising that England got as far as the eighth over before losing a wicket, Roy caught at slip by Guptill off Boult. 

Root came in and from the start timed the ball better than anybody else, Williamson apart, all day. It was at this point in my notes that I wrote “this is fascinating”, an observation that I could have made over and over again as the day went on.

The pitch got Root soon enough, when he went down the pitch to de Grandhomme and was caught at mid on by Sodhi. Bairstow was bowled by a Sodhi googly and it seemed that 1967 was having its revenge. The modern-day players were disappearing from the photo.

Now Morgan and Stokes came together. Both found it difficult to get going, but had the sense and skill to adjust and compromise as only the best players can. Stokes will never take 73 balls to score 39 again, but will play many higher scoring innings of less value and craft.

What do we think of Stokes (who bears the modern mark of shame—a plain bat bereft of sponsor’s logo)? For me, a drunken brawl with idiots at 3 am should have less bearing on his status as an international cricketer than mocking a severely disabled young person does.

New Zealand bowled well in this period, giving England few loose balls, just as well as one of the few that was delivered Morgan put in the stand. But Morgan and Stokes didn’t get out until the 36^th over, by which time they had put on 71 and the score was 139 for four, making achievable what they had identified as a decent target.

The remaining six wickets added only 96 runs in the last 14 overs, showing how difficult acceleration was. But everybody chipped in. All of the top nine reached double figures, whereas only three of New Zealand’s did. The home side remains too reliant on a couple of players doing really well in lieu of a team effort, which means crossing the ravine on a tightrope instead of a bridge.

De Grandhomme was the best bowler, with one for 24 off ten. His little dobbers contain more skill and guile than is at apparent. I thought that Williamson persevered for too long with Munro’s very slow-medium. He was taken for almost six an over with little risk to the batsmen, an advantage to England in the circumstances. Santner never returned after conceding 12 from two overs, even though he was turning it. That seemed a mistake at the time, more so as the spinners had such an impact on the New Zealand innings.

New Zealand’s target was 235, a decent target on a 1967 pitch. Guptill went in the same manner as Root had earlier, bringing Doc Brown aka Kane Williamson to the middle.

At the other end Colin Munro was playing an innings as grotesque as I have seen in many a long day. He began by refusing to adapt his usual gung ho approach to the occasion, and came close to being out pretty much every ball, twice on one occasion, when he set off on a suicidal run as a decent lbw decision was turned down. He has a first-class average of 50, but forgets. When he started playing properly he was as adept as Williamson at nudging the singles. He didn’t deserve 50, but did merit 49, which is what he got.

Mark Chapman was next in. A few weeks ago I watched him make 117 from 104 balls for Auckland against Wellington, including some of the finest driving through the offside that I have seen for quite some time. Since then, Chapman has been part of the T20 team. In one match Ross Taylor, veteran of 360-plus international appearances, came to the wicket with Chapman already there. Chapman met him halfway and proceeded to lecture him on how to go about his task, which was generally thought to be endearing. Ah, the confidence of youth! But too often it eclipses judgement, as here. He was perhaps the only person in the ground who couldn’t see the inevitable outcome of charging down the pitch at just about everything. He’d put the lot on the 100-1 outsider.

Nicholls and Latham both went lbw for ducks. Good balls, and not terrible shots, but both perhaps halfway out in their minds before they got to the crease.

Next, de Grandhomme. At this point it would be as well to be clear that my earlier remarks about his skill and guile apply exclusively to his bowling. Where cunning and dexterity are called for, the bat in his hands is as an iPad in those of a caveman. To nobody’s surprise he holed out at long on for three.

Moeen Ali took three of the wickets as New Zealand subsided. He has been foolishly written off by some after his disappointing tour of Australia, but has too much class to be cast aside. As usual, he provided an intelligent, articulate analysis of his performance after the game.

With six down and 132 more needed, Santner joined Williamson. Santer had stepped up a level in the first match of the series, in Hamilton. There, he had looked at sea at first, struggling to score at all. But he kept his head, picked the right ball to hit, and got more power from his slender frame than it looked capable of offering.

Here, he showed the same qualities in even more testing conditions.  He began carefully, waiting 15 balls before picking the right ball to attack, successfully. That was how he went on, resourceful enough to keep the singles going and with the judgement and patience to wait his moment—just twice more—to find the boundary.

So we come now to Kane Williamson, who played one of the finest against-the-odds, difficult-conditions innings I have ever seen. Of those present, only Joe Root might have matched him, as it was an innings that could be played only by a batsman of extraordinary talent, judgement and resolve. Williamson reduced risk without disregarding opportunity. Because he is so strong all around the field it was impossible for England, well as they bowled, to constrain him. Some said that the pitch eased in this period, but it just appeared that way with Williamson at the crease.

From resignation the mood of the crowd slid towards hope, then confidence. Ripples of applause for singles became rivers, boundaries were acclaimed. The fifty partnership came up in the 36^th over. With seven to go, 49 were needed. It was gripping.

For the first time, New Zealand moved ahead of the Duckworth-Lewis par score. With 29 balls left, 36 were needed. Williamson hit the ball hard back down the pitch in the air. Woakes changed direction just quickly enough to get a fingertip on the ball. It was hit so straight that it barely needed deflection to break the stumps with Santner stranded. He had scored 149 runs in the series at that point, and it was his first dismissal.

Tim Southee hit one four, but was caught trying a repeat. Twenty-two were needed from twelve balls. Williamson reached a hundred with a four from the first of these and was acclaimed. He was perhaps the least excited person in the ground at that moment, but these landmarks do tend to disrupt the flow and only three came from the rest of Tom Curran’s over.

Fifteen were needed from the last over. A six from the third ball left seven from three. A two followed, but the full toss that was the fifth ball went to straight to mid off. A couple of metres wide or high and the scores would have been level. An edge from the last ball would have tied the game, but no contact was made, so England took a two-one lead in the series.

None of the critics of the Cake Tin pitch have made the connection between calling it “dreadful” and “terrible” with the lamentable performances of the England A team in the Caribbean. As long as English cricket takes such a narrow view of what constitutes a good pitch, its teams will continue to be exposed overseas and its players will not develop as fully as they otherwise might. I read just a few days ago that Somerset are pulling back from their recent practice of producing turning pitches under threat of a points fine, a change that would further constrain the learning of young cricketers, and make the game less interesting.

Most of the critics mentioned that the Cake Tin pitch is a drop-in, something seen as a southern hemisphere aberration. In fact, the problem with drop-ins (drops-in?) is their sameness, a tendency to the bland and slow, seen at its worst at Melbourne in the Boxing Day test. How refreshing for a drop-in that has its own character.

ODIs are played in series. Ideally, each venue should present a different challenge: one fast, one slow, one road, one that seams and one like this one.

More “terrible” and “shocking” pitches please.